A/N: to begin with, to the person that reviewed me saying certain things about my last authors note, please grow up. Fanfiction is a fun, personal creative outlet and I read it very often, more so then I write it, and when I read fanfiction I don't review the authors if their opinions on certain characters are different to mine. I just stop reading that particular fanfiction if it affects me that horribly. I wont lose any sleep if that's what you decide to do, but don't review my story to attack my opinion on certain characters. You have your own opinions, and I respect that, but please respect my own opinions, and the way I choose to write my stories. So again I say grow up. Any constructive criticism, however, is more then welcome.

And thank you to Michelle. I appreciated both reviews…Dick's one of my favourites in the batman series, although I will forever be a fan of the Arrow's over any other crime fighting group…go the Green Arrows!

Sorry to everyone who had to read my little rant to that one reviewer, but here's the story.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

"Miss Morgan? Lois Lane, Daily Planet. Pleased to meet you." The lady shaking my hand reminded me of someone who didn't take crap from anybody.

"And I'm Clark Kent." The man who shook my hand next was huge. Built like a brick, and looked like he'd be at home selling boy scout cookies.

"Well you sure ate your weetbix didn't you?" I murmured before I could help myself, before blushing as Bruce chuckled.

"Lois, Clark, its good to see you again." He shook both their hands.

"Thank you for choosing us for the exclusive, Mr. Wayne, Miss Morgan." Clark said, adjusting his glasses. "We promise we'll be nicer then Ms. West was."

"Won't be hard." I snorted, muttering under my breath.

Bruce covered up his amusement, before sitting down on a leather lounge, and gesturing me and the reporters to sit as well.

I did, plonking my butt down next to Bruce with a sigh. He was right about the needing to rest bit. I'd been up for two hours today and already I was feeling sleepy. Maybe it was the pain medication the doctors had given me for my ribs.

Something must have shown on my face because when I looked up, I saw Kent looking at me closely.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently, and I forced a smile onto my face.

"Peachy." I said. "I'm fine, just a little tired."

"Do you want to go back upstairs to bed?" Bruce asked immediately. "Mr. Kent and Ms. Lane can come back another time and-,"

"I'm fine Bruce." I said firmly. "I appreciate the concern, Mr. Kent, but I'll be fine."

"If you're sure." Kent said, before Lane whacked him one around the arm.

"Smallville, she said she's fine." She rolled her eyes at me, before opening her notepad, and I was grateful to her. "But, please," she added. "Call me Lois, and him Clark."

Before I could smile and nod, grateful for her kind words, she was off, firing questions at me. She didn't leave me long to answer them, before she'd go off on another tangent. I didn't always get what she was asking, but me and Bruce besides me did our best to answer.

Finally, the two reporters left, Bruce seeing them to the door of the manor as I sat in the sitting room we'd had the interview. God I was tired. I leaned my head against the back of my chair, closing my eyes for a minute, dozing off lightly.

When I woke, someone had shifted me so I was lying down on the couch, with a blanket over me and a pillow underneath my head.

I woke with a start, feeling rather then seeing at first someone kneeling in front of me. Bruce.

He gave me a soft kiss on the forehead, before walking out the door, leaving behind a small box on the coffee table besides the lounge.

For a few moments I stared at it, wondering what it was, before I gave in and fell asleep again. It could wait.

BMBMBM

When I woke again only half an hour had passed. Sitting up, remembering the little box Bruce had left, I reached for it with my good arm, opening it carefully.

Inside lay a pair of diamond earrings. They would have cost a years salary at that fish and chips shop I was working at.

"Wow." I breathed, a little speechless. I couldn't wear those! I'd lose them. I had to give them back.

I got up with a grunt, pushing the blanket aside and standing woozily, wincing at the twinge in my ribs. I must have slept through my pills.

Holding my head gently with one hand, I made my way down the stairs to the kitchen where I heard voices.

I stepped inside, blinking a little while clutching my ribs. First things first, I thought as I stepped around Alfred and Dick, the pain medication.

I stifled a wince as I reached up and grabbed my pills down from shelf above the fridge.

"Miss Elizabeth, are you quite alright?" It was Alfred, taking a glass from me and filling it with water.

"Freaking peachy." I said, swallowing the two small pills and following it with the entire glass of water.

"Where's Bruce?" I asked stonily, and Dick exchanged a glance with Alfred before answering.

"He went out." He said. "Something about dinner with some business associates."

"Great!" I said, angry. The old give a present and then disappear before someone can object trick. I ignored the curious looks Alfred and Dick were giving me, before stomping back up to my bedroom.

If Bruce thought he could buy my love with a laptop and pretty earrings, he was wrong.

Grabbing the laptop I slammed it into the cardboard box it came in, struggling with one hand to wrap the cord up, but I managed.

I closed the box before turning to the earrings. They were pretty but I wasn't going to keep them.

I grabbed a piece of paper from the desk in the room, and a pen, but before I could write anything a voice at the door stopped me.

"Elizabeth, are you alright?" It was him, of course. I stayed where I was, resisting the urge to flip him off, or to scream at him.

"I'm fan-freaking-tastic, Bruce." I said, turning at last. Stomping over to the bed, I picked up the box that had the earrings, before throwing it at Bruce. "What the hell is that?"

He looked surprised. "They're a present for you." He said. "Why, don't you like them?"

His expression was so earnest that I had to laugh. It was a sad little chuckle, and you could hear the tears I wouldn't allow myself to shed in it.

"Bruce, I can't wear those."

"Why not?" he stepped further into the room.

"Why n-," I started to repeat but stopped the urge to shout. It was like talking to a child. "Oh, I don't know, Bruce. Maybe because one of those damn things would cost more then my entire years pay! I don't want expensive gifts, Bruce."

Bruce sighed as he stepped closer to the bed, to me, as I slumped down to sit, my shoulders hunched.

"I'm sorry." He said, and it sounded so heart felt I had to look up, even as he sat down next to me on the bed. "I didn't realise you would take offence."

I sighed, realising for the first time what a bitch I'd been. He'd honestly been trying to do something nice, and I'd literally thrown it back in his face. It had probably been a small gesture on his part, even though I was freaking out about it. What he'd paid for the earrings probably cost less then some of his suits.

"Look, Bruce." I started, running a hand through my hair, sighing. "I just…I just don't want you feeling like you have to buy me things. I don't want that from you." I said. "I just want to be your daughter. I want to get to know you. Go places with you. Ice skating, or hiking or something."

"I don't think you'd do very well at either of those at the moment." Bruce said, smiling, and I scowled, elbowing him with my good arm.

"You know what I mean." I said. "And I'd manage."

Stubborn, me?

"Ok then." Bruce said, before scratching his chin thoughtfully. "How do you feel about food?"

I frowned. "I'm fairly fond, why?"

He smiled. "The business dinner I attended tonight consisted of a very artful mountain of salad." He said. "You'd think seeing as I own the restaurant I'd be able to have them make some real food."

I snorted, as he continued.

"And if I'm not mistaken, you slept through dinner yourself."

I sighed, trying to ignore the rumbling in my stomach now that we had brought up the issue of food.

"Yep."

"Come on."

BMBMBM

To my great surprise Bruce drove us (himself, he actually drives!) to a diner in the slightly less then upperclass part of town. But it was the best burger I'd ever had.

"Look, Bruce." I started as we waited for our apple pie. "I'm sorry I went all spaz on you about the earrings. It was a really nice gesture and I was a complete bitch about it."

He reached across the table, covering my hand with his and squeezing it gently. "It's okay. I guess I misjudged what your reaction would be."

I laughed. "Well, unless you were aiming to be yelled at, then yeah, I'd say so."

He laughed as well, and I found I liked it. It was nice. Comforting almost.

It was becoming familiar.

We were interrupted by two things happening at once. Our apple pie came, dropped in front of us with a not so platonic smile at Bruce by the waitress, and the other thing, the door smashing open as four armed men wearing black stormed in.

My breath caught in my throat as I stared, even as one of them held the gun up to the ceiling and fired a couple of rounds up into it.

"Everyone on the ground now!" One of them screamed, swinging his gun around to point at different people in the diner. My senses came back to me, and suddenly I wasn't sitting frozen anymore.

I crawled under the table Bruce and I were sitting up, shaking. I didn't want to be kidnapped again. I couldn't take it.

I tugged on Bruce's pants leg, wanting him to get even further down beneath the table. He did, before looking at me with a grimace, looking at me shaking with worry.

"You have to calm down," he said, squeezing my shoulder gently as booted feet began walking around, passing our table.

I bit my lip, nodding, taking deep breaths as I closed my eyes, trying to get myself under control. this wasn't like the kidnapping, I told myself. These guys just wanted money, and then to get out.

I opened my eyes just in time to see Bruce press a button I hadn't noticed before, on his belt. That was weird. Why would he need a button on his belt? Panic alarm? That would make sense. He was rich enough to need one. But would it go straight to the police? What was going to happen?

Then a hand was reaching under our table, grabbing my hair and pulling me from my safety, as I screamed in terror, my ribs protesting at the rough treatment.

I noticed to my left another woman had been taken from the other side of the room, and was being held with a gun to her head as well.

"Quiet, bitch." The man holding me said, and I did as I was told, whimpering still.

"Alright!" the leader said in a loud voice. "If you all cooperate, neither of these pretties will get hurt. So give us all your money, and we'll leave."

I was shaking so bad now I didn't think I'd have been able to stand if it wasn't for the tight hold my captor had on me.

One by one the leader and the other man not holding a hostage went around to everyone on the ground, grabbing wallets, jewellery and watches.

Bruce was the last one, grabbed roughly out from under the table. I shut my eyes as he was belted in the stomach. Some of the other men had been given this treatment. Maybe it was because they looked like they might be able to put up a fight?

"Well, well, well." The leader said as he realised who Bruce was. "If it isn't the Prince of Gotham." Then he turned around and peered at me closer. "And Gotham's latest princess. I think you two can add some real value to the booty."

"Whatever you want." Bruce said, not looking at the thug when he answered. Instead he was looking at me, his brown eyes staring into mine as if to say, it'll be alright. I bite my lip, his comforting look helping me stop my trembling. "Just don't hurt Elizabeth."

"We won't if you give us everything you have." The leader agreed smiling ruthlessly, and Bruce unlatched his watch and was about to hand it over when the windows to the diner exploded, and three coloured blurs took out two of the men.

I was yanked closer to the thug who had a tight grip on my hair, and the gun shoved even further into my neck, so much so that I was having trouble breathing. Or maybe I was just hyperventilating. I didn't know which.

Someone had just gasped out 'oh god', and detachedly I realised it was me.

"Elizabeth!" Bruce tried to reach towards me, but the gun in his face stopped him.

"Bruce." I whispered, eyes wide as I trembled. Why did I ever come to Gotham again?

Oh yeah. The whole long lost father thing.

I looked at the three vigilantes who had burst in. Robin and Nightwing were two of them, unless I was mistaken. It was the third that had me stumped. Tight red muscle shirt, and tight pants, gun holsters and other weapons openly displayed around his body. His auburn hair was cut close to his head, and his face looked like he'd seen a few fights of his own. Sunglasses sat on top of his head and his blue eyes stared into mine as I clutched at the hand in my hair, holding me to the thug.

There was no way they could help me like the last time. Not that they didn't look like they were going to try.

Muscles had a gun pointed directly at my thugs head, while Robin and Nightwing had their own weapons pointed at the guy who had Bruce held at bay with the gun.

I looked back to my father. It was weird, how just minutes ago we'd been laughing, joking about a father daughter spat, and now it looked like just as we'd forgiven each other, we were about to die.

Sometimes life just sucked.

His eyes were pleading, as if he was begging me to do something. What? Not die? Well, Brucie, I'd do my best.

Then his eyes flicked almost too quickly for me to notice back to the new guy, and I looked back at him.

He had a serious, almost apologetic look in his eyes, and in that heartbeat, I knew what he was going to do.

He was going to take the shot.

I just hoped he didn't suck with a gun. That would be just my luck. I get stuck with the vigilante who couldn't aim.

Well, I thought, steeling my resolve. He was going to take the shot, I was gonna try and help him as much as I could.

I jerked my head to the side, keeping eye contact with him the whole time as I tried to ignore the sharp pain in my head when my hair was pulled.

The man gave a miniscule nod, and I threw myself to the side as hard as I could, crying out involuntarily at the pain of my hair being pulled out of my scalp, along with the fear that the bullet that had just exploded from the gun of my would-be saviour would actually hit me.

When I got down I crawled as fast as I could, trying not to feel like I was cowering against the table as Nightwing and Robin took out the guy who had been holding the gun to Bruce.

The man – the one with the excellent aim, I might add – quickly had the thug tied up with some plastic ties, before he stepped over him, which actually involved stepping on the thug, stopping in front of me to kneel down, a half smile on his face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and I nodded, slightly speechless.

"Am now." I said, before accepting his hand to help me to my feet. When I looked to my left, Bruce was being helped up by Nightwing, while Robin was making sure the men were completely secure.

"Thank you." I said solemnly, and his smile widened, his hand holding mine for slightly longer then was appropriate for someone just helping someone to their feet.

"Any time." He said, still staring into my eyes, until flashing lights and loud sirens started to make themselves known a little way down the street.

He turned, and I found Nightwing and Robin doing the same, hurrying a little more then my saviour out the door.

"Wait!" I called out, ignoring Bruce's presence by my side. "Who are you?"

He turned back and smirked. "The name's Arsenal. See you around."

Then he was gone, and the cops were swarming the place, transferring the criminals into cuffs while me and the other girl who'd been held up as hostages were shepherded to an ambulance.

I snapped out of it when a torch was flashed into my eyes. they were checking for shock and head wounds.

I squinted away from the light before turning away, grumbling out, 'I'm fine.'

"Elizabeth, you need to get yourself checked out." Bruce said, and I rolled my eyes.

"I'm fine, Bruce." I said, before staring up at him and making my eyes go as wide as possible. "Can we just go home?"

He sighed, before turning to the paramedic and nodding.

Bruce: 0. Puppy dog look: 1.